When You Let Your Heart Win
by Destiny3576
Summary: After four long years, Bella goes home. How will her family, friends, and – most importantly – her ex-boyfriend, Emmett, react to her return? (Rated M just in case)
1. Coming Home

_**Okay, so I have decided to switch over to this story for a while. I'm still writing Too Little, Too Late, but now I'm having issues with the way I've written it. I can't get what I want to happen to happen with the right words. So this is a bit of a distraction while get past my writers block. I've written this off and on for months, scribbling in notebooks and things. This story is currently based in my home town in Idaho (a place that I miss very much and hope to visit again soon). The places here are real, and very important to me. However, the story line is not. This is 100% made up. The characters, obviously, are Stephanie Meyers (with my own adjustments). This is currently unbeta'd, as all of my stories have been so far. Although I would love to have someone beta read, I feel like the timing of my writing is too random. I can't keep myself on a schedule (You know, get one chapter done every Sunday, or do a page a day, or whatever. I suck at that.) So I feel as though anyone who did beta for me would have to be able to put up with that. But if this is something that interests you, please PM me. **_

_**Anyways, this is a Bella/Emmett story. (the possibility of their relationship had always made me fangirl to no end). So yeah, here goes this. Enjoy and please review! I love hearing your guys' opinions, and what you think at each chapter's end.**_

_**After four long years, Bella goes home. How will her family, friends, and – most importantly – her ex-boyfriend, Emmett, react to her return?**_

…

**Bella POV**

**H**ome. Here I am, after four long years. I stare at the huge apple tree, its big juicy apples sparking memories of my past. I tuck a stray lock of thick brown hair behind my ear, letting the sunshine warm my face. My hands settle in my lap, turning a folded up piece of paper that I can't bear to open. I watch squirrels run along the stone wall behind the tree, and hear the old yellow lab on the other side bark. The smell of fresh-cut grass and barbecued ribs fills my nose. Every sight, every sound, every smell brings back another memory. I hadn't expected coming back to hurt so much.

"Isabella?" I jump at my grandmother's voice, soft and soothing as ever.

I turn to look at her, and smile. Four years later, my grandma has held on to her beauty so long. Her thick dark curls hang around her face, not messy but not neat. Her cheeks are naturally blushed pink, and her lips are stained in the deep red lipstick that used to leave her kiss-print on my forehead after every visit. Her delicate hands hold out a tall glass of lemonade, and I laugh. "You've got a big ol' apple tree out here, and you bring me lemonade?"

She laughs back, knowing I'm only teasing. "You didn't get enough of that in your childhood?" she teases back as I reach out for the glass. I shake my head no and take a sip. It's perfect, as always. Not to sweet, and not too sour. "Have you been out to see that boy yet, Isabella?"

I look down at my lap, at the paper still in my other hand, and tap its corner on my leg nervously. "Not yet, Grandma. But I'll get there, I promise."

"You better. You know how he'll feel if Ally or Jasper get to you first. Poor boy hasn't been the same since you left." I can't look u pat her, can't meet her eyes, can't see the sadness that I know is only a fraction of what I'll see in Emmett's eyes. I feel her delicate touch on my cheek. She holds her hand there for a second, then I watch her worn purple slippers turn and disappear back into the house.

I sit back in the plush lawn chair and close my eyes, thinking of a time when things were less complicated.

…

"_C'mon, Bells, dance with me," he begged. I stared into his sparkling blue eyes, painfully aware of his warm hands on my hips. It was all I had ever wanted, so why was I so nervous? Maybe it was the way her was looking at me, like he was just as hopeful as I was. Or maybe it was my family all around us, watching, waiting, encouraging. Or maybe it was that I couldn't actually dance, and I didn't want to ruin it. "Please?" _

_I chewed my lower lip, and glanced around us. Fireflies chased each other around the edges of the yard, and tiki torches lit up the center. My family was gathered around us, some dancing, some talking and laughing, some watching Emmett and I, some playing in the pool, their own cross of swimming and basketball. Someone, probably my grandfather, had brought out a CD player and a few speakers, and my favorite song was playing through them. _

"_Alright," I said quietly, looking back at him. I watched his mouth spread into a huge grin, too big for his face, but perfectly adorable. _

"_Alright?" he asked, taking my hand and pulling me into the group of dancers. _

"_Alright!" I laughed, letting him pull me. He turned and placed his hands lightly on my waist, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, trying to hide the shaking in my fingers. We watched each other under the twinkling stars and the beautiful full moon. _

_'When I saw you,_

_Everyone knew_

_I liked the effect that you had on my eyes._

_But no one else heard_

_The weight of your words,_

_Or felt the effect that they had on my mind.'_

_(**Birdy-Tee Shrt**)_

…

The next afternoon, I sit in the car, the piece of paper back in my hands, spinning between my fingers, then tapping against my thigh, spinning then tapping, spinning then tapping. I watch it, trying to convince myself to get out of the car, to face what–_who_–I've been avoiding for four years. Finally, I unfold the paper, my hands shaking so bad I can barely hold onto it. I have to set it down on my lap to read it, and when I do I can't help the tears from welling up in my eyes, blurring my vision. In thick, boyish handwriting, are two sentences.

**When you're ready to come home, find me.  
>I'll be here.<strong>

Below that is his address, the same one that I now sit in front of, and a date from two years ago. I can only hope he still lives here. I take a deep breath, and blink the tears away, clearing my eyes. I re-fold the paper and finally raise my eyes to the house. It's small, and white, with dark blue shutters and a tiny porch. The lawn is green, and freshly cut. On each side of the front door there is a window, and each has a flower box underneath with purple petunia's. My heart stutters at this, remembering the same purple petunia's in my grandmothers back yard that I loved and nurtured. She had let them die when I left, because no one loved them like I did, but they were one of my favorite parts of her house. The flowers bring back so many memories, but one in particular stands out.

…

_I knelt on the ground, pouring water into the small barrel, making sure to get under and around the petunias. A shadow fell beside me, and I felt the enormous presence of my best friend in the grass beside me._

"_They're beautiful," I said quietly, running my finger gently along one of the small flowers. _

"_Yeah," he agreed, just as quiet. I glanced up at him, and he was watching me._

"_What?" I asked, quickly looking back to the flowers._

"_What, what?"_

_I looked back up at him, and his eyes were still on me. I held the edge of the make-shift pot, trying to hide the way my hands were shaking. "Why are you staring at me?"_

_He laughed, as if it was obvious. "Because, Bella, you're gorgeous. And I just happen to like staring at gorgeous things." He reached into the barrel and plucked a petunia off its stem. I opened my mouth to protest, to yell at him for hurting them, but before I could he placed it in my hair. "The purple looks amazing in your hair," He said quietly. He leaned forward and kissed my cheek, his mouth warm, and his cologne strong and delicious, and then he got up and walked away. And all the while, all I could do was sit and stare._

…

I shake my head to clear it, and get out of the car. As I walk up the small path to the house, I feel my nerves skyrocket. My stomach twists and flips. I pull my bottom lip between my lips and chew, grateful I decided against the soft pink lip gloss. I reach the door and shove the paper deep into my pocket. I have no idea if he knows I'm here. It wasn't a big secret, but I didn't tell him myself.

I stare at the door, unsure of what lays ahead. Four years is a long time. Maybe it's too long. Maybe he's mad at me for not contacting him. Maybe he's mad that I dated other people, though I know he did too. Maybe he doesn't want to see me. I spin around and make my way back down the path, but I'm not fast enough.

The door clicks open, and a voice calls after me. But it's not the one I expect. "Bella?" a girl calls. I freeze, shocked, and turn back to the house.

"Ally?" I ask incredulously. My eyes can't make sense of what I see, but sure enough, there's Alice Cullen in the doorway, grinning ear to ear. Four years ago, Alice was just a freshman in high school. She was small, and shy. She kept her raven hair long enough to cover her beautiful but a little plain face. Now, she's just the opposite. Her hair is short and wild, She's gotten out of the jeans-and-a-tee phase that I seems to be stuck in, and her face is covered in a thin layer makeup that brings her from plane to completely beautiful.

"You're actually here!" she squeals. She bounds down the steps, and suddenly her tiny arms wrap around me.

Once I move past the shock, I hug her back. "I told you I was coming," I chuckle in her ear.

She pulls back, shaking her head. "It's different." Suddenly, she seems to realize something. "Oh!" she exclaims. "I'm so stupid! You didn't come here for me, did you? Of course not. You're looking for my brother. He's inside. Just inside, first room on the left. He's making lunch."

"Does he know?" I ask quietly. In answer she only winks, and gestures towards the door. I hug her again, then walk inside.

Immediately I'm surrounded by the smell of hamburgers. I follow Ally's instructions and turn toward a doorway to my left. And there he is. Finally, after four years, he's really here in front of me. My palms are sweaty, and my stomach is flip-flopping, and my heart is in my throat, and I'm chewing my lip nervously. I can't tell if I want to run to him, or away.

So instead, I stand in the doorway for a minute and watch him. His large frame is hunched over a small stove, flipping burgers. He's beautiful. From his height, to his sky blue eyes, to the way he purses his lips in concentration, to the freckle on the side of his neck.

He finishes the last of the burgers while I watch, and slides them onto a plate. He turns off the stove and then turns to place the pan in the sink. As he bends down, his shirt moves a little, and on his shoulder-blade, a black figure peeks out beneath his shirt. I can't stop the gasp that escapes my mouth.

The sound reveals my presence, and Emmett spins towards me. His mouth drops open, and he grips the edge of the counter hard, like he's having trouble standing up straight. His beautiful eyes are wide. They reveal so much about him, and at the same time nothing at all. Nothing important, anyways. They're filled with shock, which tells me Ally didn't tell him I was coming, but I can't tell if he's happy to see me or not.

"Bells?" He whispers.

"Hey, I whisper back, hoping he doesn't hear my voice break.

"What are you doin' here? I mean, I didn't expect you, is all I mean. Not that I don't–"

I give a short laugh, cutting him off. "I got in yesterday. I would've come here first, but I wanted to get settled first. I actually wanted to wait a couple more days, but... Guess I just couldn't stay away . Same as always." I start chewing my lip again, and stare down at my damaged purple flip-flops.

Suddenly his own black sneakers are there, toe to toe with mine. I can't bring myself to look up, to face him, and he doesn't force me to. I want to reach out and hug him, place my head on his chest and re-familiarize myself with the sound of his heartbeat. I want to get away from him, get out of his house. I don't do either. Instead I just stand in front of him, as still as the door frame behind me.

I watch him shove has hands into his front pockets. "It's been so long, Bella." I cringe away from the pain in his voice.

"I know. I'm sorry." I close my eyes, fighting tears once again.

"Why did you wait so long to come back?"

"I didn't know what to say after you… After her… After what happened. I still don't, Emmett. I finally look up into his eyes, and I wish I hadn't. They're glossed over with their own tears, and there's that crease between his eyebrows, the one that means he's upset with himself.

"God, Bella, I'm so damn sorry about that. But you just left, you didn't let me explain. You didn't give me a chance."

"You didn't even try!" I yelled, suddenly angry. "After I left, you didn't call, you didn't write, you didn't come see me. You didn't do anything but cry to Grandma! So don't you dare tell me that this is my fault!"

"I called you before! I was at your door three times a day, every day, that whole week! You didn't even tell me you were leaving!" He took a deep breath. "That Saturday, I came to the door, and your grandmother looked at me with this look that was just pure pity, like she knew. Like she knew how I felt,and like she knew that I was going to hurt for the rest of my life. She took me into the kitchen, gave me her Ultra Pity cookies, and told me you were gone, and you were never coming back. Bella, that destroyed me. I didn't eat, I barely left my bedroom, I almost lost the apartment, I lost Jessica. I was a wreck." By the end, he's whispering, and the first tear falls slowly down his face, triggering my own tears just a second after.

Without my permission, my hand reaches up and holds the side of his face gently. I wipe away the tear with my thumb, and his own hand holds mine in place.

"I'm back now," I say. His huge arms scoop me up in a hug, my toes barely touching the floor so that I can reach to wrap my arms around his neck. And though he's squeezing me too tight, I feel like I can finally breathe right again after four years of missing him.

"Don't leave me again" he mumbles into my ear.

"Same goes for you, Em." I breathe in his cologne, and the smell of the hamburgers. My hands hold the back of his shirt tightly, revealing the shooting star once again, and the memory attached to it.

…

_Every year, I spent the fourth of July with Emmett and Ally and their parents, Carlisle and Esme. But that year, the year I left, the year it all started, Emmett and I snuck away from the park, the people, the river, the fireworks, the noise. We made out way across town to an elementary school where we could barely hear the boom of the light show, and we lay down in their soccer field, side by side, hands joined between us. We'd held hands before, a lot, but tonight felt different. We both wiped our sweaty, nervous hands on our pants before our fingers intertwined. We stared up into the beautiful sky, watching as each star came out, one by one. It was completely silent, but it was companionable silence. The kind you could be in for hours, and never get tired of, or uncomfortable in. _

_When I started shivering, Emmett pulled me close to him, and wrapped his big strong arms around my shoulders. I was instantly warm, even overheated, but I didn't complain. Being so close to him did weird things to my stomach, but I loved it. I rested my head on his chest, and the sound of his heart beat into my ear. I could even feel his chest move with its force. _

"_Em?" I asked quietly._

"_Yeah?"_

"_Why are your fingers shaking?"_

_He quickly pressed them harder into my arm, probably trying to stop them. They didn't stop. "You make me nervous, Bells."_

_I laughed, disbelieving. "Emmett Cullen does not get nervous. I bet you're just cold and don't want to admit it cause you think you're too manly."_

_He raised himself onto his elbows, forcing me to move off of his chest. I was hovering just above him, so close I could see the little freckle on the side of his nose that he's hated since forever. "No, Bella, that's wrong. You do. You make me nervous. My stomach twists, and I shake, and my palms get sweaty, and my heart pounds. Every part of me just wants to reach out and hold you, and I don't know why I haven't yet but I want to, Isabella. I want to so bad."_

_My jaw dropped somewhere in the middle of his speech, and I have nothing to say to that. Is it possible he feels the same way about me as I do him? There are so many girls that want him, he could have his pick of a majority of the junior or senior class. But here he is, in the park with plain old me, telling me that I make him nervous. I don't get it._

"_Say something, Bells?" he whispers. _

"_I can't," I whisper back. "I'm speechless. You really feel that way about me?"_

"_I'm in complete and utter awe of you, Bella." He leans towards me, closer and closer and closer. He's going slow, giving me time to move away if I don't want this, but I really, really do. So I don't move, and suddenly his lips are on mine. He tastes like soda and cotton candy, and it's a delicious taste, and all I can think is that I want this moment to last forever._

…

_**So, this chapter was kinda short. But yeah there it is. It won't be all supernaturally or highly action-packed. It's just a love story. Obviously it will have it's twist and turns, so if you're into that, follow, and pleasepleasepleaseplease review! :) _**Also, I have a HUGE favor to ask of you guys. If any of you are into the drawing this (I don't care what kind, anime, chibi, realistic, etc.) could you please draw me one of Bella and Emmett together? I want to use it for the image of this story. I will give you credit. **_Thank you very much for reading. And for those who also read Too Little, Too Late, I will get back to writing it as soon as I can, I promise. **_


	2. Pain Like Fire

_**Here goes chapter two! I think this is my quickest update so far. Anyways, enjoy. :)**_

…

"_**D**are you," Emmett taunts with a smirk pulling up one side of his mouth. _

_I glare at the hand above his head, the one holding Mr. Blues, my favorite (and creatively named) childhood teddy bear. Em had taken it to challenge me. He expects me to try and jump up to snatch it from him. Instead, I launch myself at him, digging my fingers into his sensitive sides. I know I've found his weak spot when he starts squirming and laughing. His giggle makes me laugh in return, and I tickle herder until he bends forwards, bringing Mr. Blues conveniently within my reach. I take him from Em's grip and quickly bolt to the other side of my bedroom, holding the bear to my chest protectively._

"_Damn," Em says breathlessly. "You don't mess around with your stuffed animals, do you?" He laughs a little, then winces, holding his side._

"_No, sir, I do not. Mr. Blues is my best friend, and I won't have you bullying him," I chuckle, and return the bear to it's shelf._

"_So if I was your best friend, would you tickle a person to death to defend me?" His grin is huge, taking over the majority of his face, and it's the cutest thing ever. _

"_You bet I would. My loyalty is rock solid."_

"_Wanna be my best friend, Bells? I promise I give better hugs thank Mr. Blues."_

_I laugh again and pull him into a hug. "You will always be my favorite human, Em."_

_. . _

I wake up slowly, not wanting to let go of the dream, or forget the memory. It was the summer after eighth grade, the first time that Emmett was allowed in my bedroom. I smile at the thought, and get out of bed in a wonderful mood.

As I make my way through the house, I can't help but whistle.

"Someone's in a good mood," Grandma remarks, smiling sweetly at me.

"Yup!" I grin, placing a kill on her cheek, and steal a waffle as it pops out of the toaster. I narrowly dodge her playful swipe and hurry outside into the beautiful morning sunshine.

As I make my way down the street, my mood only grows higher. I'm home. No matter what the complications are, that is matters. I'm reunited with my grandmother, Emmett, and Ally. My spirits are higher than they've ever been, and I'm confident that everything will work out just fine. I turn into a small gas station, and head directly to the candy aisle. I dig a handful of change out of my pocket and place it on the counter beside my favorite chocolate bar.

"Hold on a sec, I'll be right there," the cashier says. My head whips up at the voice, _her_ voice. I stare at the back of her head. Blond. High pony-tail, perfect as ever. Tanned neck. Perfectly painted nails holding a phone to her ear.

Jessica Stanley.

"Never mind," I mumble. I pick up my change and head for the door.

Apparently she recognized my voice as well, because just as I'm pushing the door open, she calls after me. "Isabella, is that you?" My grandmother taught me it's rude to walk away when people are talking, but I don't stop, don't turn around. I can't escape fast enough.

I keep going, faster and faster, until I'm running. Each pound of my feet on the concrete jolts through my body, almost painfully, but it keeps the tears at bay so I keep running. I make it the blocks to the old elementary school before I can't breathe. Finally, I can't hold the tears back, and they spill over. I make my way to the top of my favorite slide and pull my knees up to my chest, grateful that the kids are all on summer break.

"So stupid," I mutter. Seeing her had caught me completely off-guard. How could I be so dumb? I should've known she hadn't left town, or at least asked someone.

_I love her, Bells._

The most terrifying four words Emmett Cullen ever said to me. The most painful. The words lick painfully at my heart like tendrils of fire as they replay over and over in my hear.

_I love her, Bells._

The tears slide off my jaw and into my lap, staining my jeans.

_Her._

He loved her.

…

_I chewed my lip as I stared at me best friend, trying to convince my mind that that's all he was. But as I looked into his bright blue eyes, and noticed the freckle on the side of his nose, and how his shoulders filled out his graduation gown, and how he pressed his thumbnail into his first finger nervously, I knew it was pointless._

"_I know I should say this, but I'm going to anyways," I begin, taking his big hand in mine and holding it tightly to steady myself. "I'm in love with you. I've loved you since freshman year. I love your disastrous curls, and your beautiful eyes. I love that your smile is too big for your face, and that your ears are too small. I love the way you purse your lips when you concentrate, and that you turn off your phone when you listen to music because "it is a gift that should be appreciated without interruption.' I love that you're always warms, and that I feel safe in your arms. I'm in love with everything about you, and I know I'm more than just your best friend, and I think we deserve a chance."_

_I knew I shouldn't have said it. He was dating _her_. Jessica. She was technically my friend. She had never done anything mean to me, and actually stuck up for me to her other friends on more than one occasion. But for almost six months, since she had stated dating Em, I'd grown increasingly annoyed with her. Every time she touched him I wanted her to catch fire, and her laugh went from beautiful to annoying, and even her kindness could not make up for the fact that she could get close to him in ways I couldn't. I told myself that it was just because I was used to having him all to myself, but I knew that wasn't true. Especially the day in the field, when he kissed me under the stars. He had been with her then, but he wanted me. But after that he had told me it couldn't happen, he couldn't do that to Jessica. _

_In the silence that followed, I watched so many emotions cross his face. First, happiness. Then elation. The deep thought. Then realization. And finally, devastation. He placed his other hand in mine, as his eyes welled up with tears._

"_Say something?" I whispered._

"_I love her, Bells." He said, his voice breaking on my name. "And I can't-"_

"_I understand," I interrupted before he could hurt me more. The tears were now in my eyes, but I held them back, not wanting him to see how bad it hurt me, not wanting to show him that he was my weakness. I pulled my hands out of his and turned away._

"_No, Bella,let me explain." I felt him try to move closer, and felt the brush of his fingertips on my shoulder._

"_Don't worry, you don't have to," I said over my shoulder as I walked away, the first tear rolling quickly down my face._

…

By the time I make it home, Grandma is gone, probably out shopping or at bingo with her friends. I curl up on the couch, tears still running down my face, pain still threatening to crush me to pieces, and oxygen still somehow avoiding my lungs.

Grandma came home nearly two hours later.

"Isabella?" she called from the back door. I couldn't breathe enough to answer her. "Honey, are you home?" She finally tuns the corner into the living room, and I hear her sharp gasp. My eyes move towards her as she sits on the couch next to me, stroking my hair soothingly.

"What's wrong, Isabella?" she asks quietly, bringing a whole new round of sobs and tears. She waits patiently until I calm down, and then repeats her question.

"I saw Jessica today," I start, a few more tears wetting the blanket that I've pulled up under my head. Grandma doesn't say anything, just waits. "I couldn't bear to look at her. I messed up, Grandma. I messed up so bad. I shouldn't have tried to mess with her and Emmett's relationship. I should've just left and not said anything. Or I should've talked to em before I left. He told me yesterday how bad he was when I left. He told me I was the reason he lost her. I messed up, Grandma. I really, really–" I'm forced to stop as another sob erupts out of me.

"You're wrong, Isabella." I shake my head, disagreeing, but she continues anyways. "You were right to tell that boy how you felt. He deserved to know, even if it was bad timing. And honestly when he lost Jessica, he barely noticed. She wasn't as important to him as it may have seemed to you. He loved her, yes, but mostly he was just being a gentleman. He didn't want o hurt her my leaving her for some body she counted as a friend. You did not ruin their relationship, he did by not tell her the truth. That boy loved you as well."

I stare, disbelieving. "Why didn't he tell me?"

"You were leaving for college. He couldn't just tell you he loved you, and then lose you a week later."

"I would've stayed for him. I was accepted at the community college, too." She is shaking her head before I finish, and I know why.

"He would never ask you to leave your dream behind for him. That's proof he loved you."

I sigh, knowing she's right. "So what do I do, Grandma?"

"Well, what do you want?" she asks, studying my face.

"I want him to be happy," I say immediately, without even thinking.

"Then you need to get that boy to trust you again. Do what you do best. Be that boy's best friend."

I smile a little. "You know, Grandma, _that boy_ has a name."

She laughs and pats my leg. "Old habits die hard, Isabella."

"I love you, Grandma."

"I love you too, Isabella."

…

The next day, I knock on Emmett's door tentatively.

"One second!" I hear him yell through the door. As I wait, one hand taps against my leg nervously and the other clutches a shopping bag tightly.

When he opens the door, he is gorgeous. He is wearing a loose fitting pair of sweat pants and a black tank top, and he has flower everywhere. I can't help but giggle, my nervousness forgotten.

"Bella?" he asks, surprised.

I hold up the bag. "I brought lunch. I mean, pieces of lunch. It used to be your favorite, so I mean, I figured you would still like it." I shrug, still smiling.

"Well, c'mon in." He opens the door further, and gestures to the kitchen. I stare at the room. Glass bowls are stacked precariously on the counter, and flower is spread across a small table in the corner. Drying racks are balanced across the double sink, piled high with cookies. Right then, a timer dings. "Sorry about the mess, Ally is throwing a graduation party for her friend, and you know how she is. Never does things halfway. Or herself." He mutters that last part, but he is smiling as he rushes to pull the freshest batch out of the oven.

I set the bag down on the counter and pick up a chocolate chip cookie. I pop it into my mouth, and can't help the moan that escapes my mouth at the taste. It's perfect. Squishy, but not gooey. Chocolaty, but not too much.

"Good?" Em asks, an eyebrow raised.

My face heats quickly with a blush, and I nod. "Delicious."

He finishes with the cookies and moves to lean on the counter in front of me. "So, what'd you bring?" He peeks into the bag, and his eyes widen. "I haven't had these in forever!" He scoops me into a hug, his big arms fitting easily around my waist as if there wasn't four years of distance between us.

My arms automatically close around his neck and I laugh into his shoulder. "You're welcome."

Soon after, we're sitting on the couch–close but not too close–eating the sandwiches with the delightful crunch of our childhood. "I can't believe you remember this," Em says, his mouth full of creamy deliciousness.

"I remember a lot of things," I say, laughing.

He glances at me mischievously as if I've just issued a challenge. "Blue suit?"

"Your first date, it was hideous. I told you not to wear it, it was too formal and she would hate it. You did it anyways, and the date was miserable."

"Never ignored your fashion hints again. Joey?"

"You found an injured bird in the yard, and nursed him back to health. When we let him go, I decided he needed a name. You decided to name him Joey after my first boyfriend, because they were equally as stupid."

He laughs loudly, and finishes his sandwich. "Okay, okay. Truce for now. But I will get you, I promise. There's no way you remember everything."

"If you say so," I shoot back, grinning. He takes my plate and returns them to the kitchen. While he's gone, I stand to wander around the room.

On top of the fireplace are four pictures. The first is from his high school graduation. The next is him and Ally at seven years old, swinging on the poor old tire swing that used to hang in their mothers back yard. Third is a photo from his parents wedding photo.

Looking at them, it was easy to tell where Emmett got each of his looks from. The curls that he wore so short now were from his father, and his eyes were from his mother. He got his jaw from his dad, and his nose from his mom. I never met his dad – he had dies before Emmett and I had met – but I know he got his kindness and his loud laugh from his mother as well.

The fourth picture was of me and Ally in his mothers living room, Christmas of my junior year. I can't help but stare at myself in this picture. I look genuinely happy. My eyes are sparkling and my smile is huge. My hands are clutching a small black box in my lap. I still remember what it was–the very last origami swan Em ever made me. In that moment, I looked beautiful, and care-free. I want that back like I have never wanted anything in my life.

…

When I get home, it's well past midnight. Emmett and I spent the whole day in his house, talking and laughing and remembering. We finished Alice's cookies, and tended the petunia's for a bit, but mostly we just sat on the couch, close but never touching.

I find and envelope sitting on my desk in my bedroom. I turn it over, and immediately freeze. I don't even have to read the return address to know who it's from. The handwriting is familiar enough. I open it up, my hands shaking.

My dearest Bella,  
>God, I miss you. This apartment is so empty without you. I miss your cluttered books and the smell of your perfume. I just got a promotion at work, so now saving money to come see you will be easier than expected. I hope to come see you within the month.<p>

Angela and Ben had another fight. I guess he's been out at the casino again. I don't think they'll last much longer, and I'm worried about her. Give her a call? She hasn't been eating lately. I took her out to lunch and she got a salad. I think that's code red.

I hope all is well with your family. How is your grandmother? How are you settling into the house? I can imagine it might be difficult after so long away. But I hope you get used to I s again soon. Though it was hard for me to let you go, I understand why you did, and I hope you are happier where you are.

Also I hope things are well with your friends. Have you seen them yet? How do they feel about your return? I understand you left in quite a hurry, and I know you haven't had much contact with them over the years. I hope they are happy to see you.

Write soon, or let me know when you get your phone set up so I can call you – I miss your voice. I miss you. And I love you. I hope this long distance thing works out between us, and I hope I can join you soon.

Much love,  
>Edward<p>

…

_**There it is! I hope that this ending surprised you guys. I wanted to keep it a secret a little longer, but I think this was a good place to reveal it. Can't wait to hear what you guys think. Review, please! And also, I'm going to ask again if anyone could draw my a picture of Emmett and Bella? I couldn't find a good one online that wasn't of them arm wrestling. I would give you credit and only use it as the image cover of this chapter. Also if you would like to beta read this story please PM me. I understand I'm not a hugely great writer, and I do make mistakes, so it would be nice to have somebody to correct them before the chapter was posted. Anyways, thanks for reading. Please review and let me know what you thought of this chapter, the one before, and what you think might happen in the future (The future part is my favorite kind of review). Love you guys! :)**_


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